The Princess Slave
by AztecWuff
Summary: Mimi has escaped from slavery in Gondor, what she didn't expect is to run into an old friend...


Chapter One  
  
Aragorn carried the child further and further into the woods. It was night, and the moon was high above his head. He looked down at the baby, wrapped in a cloak, and a wave of grief washed over him.  
  
My only child, He thought sadly, and I'm giving her away. Then he realised it would be for her own good. The little girl had been born a day ago, and when Elrond saw her, he had a fit.  
  
"I CANNOT BELIVE THIS!" he has roared, making the newborn scream and wail. "I LET YOU AND MY DAUGHTER GO ON A TRIP- JUST FOR A FEW MONTHS- AND YOU COME BACK WITH A CHILD!" Then he had turned to Aragorn. "Get that child out of Rivendell tonight, or I will make sure she never comes back again!" So, with Arwen sobbing, and the baby strapped to a horse, Aragorn set off for Gondor, for he knew they would look after her there.  
  
Aragorn looked at his child once more. "My little rosebud." He murmured, stroking her cheek with one hand, while directing his horse with the other. "My little Amelié."  
  
~ *  
~  
  
He arrived at the city of Gondor early the next morning. He handed his horse to the stableboy, and demanded to see the steward of Gondor, Brilechor. Brilechor greeted him warmly.  
  
"What can I do for you today, Aragorn?" he asked, then he saw the baby and chuckled. "Who is this?" he asked.  
  
Aragorn quickly explained, and Brilechor listened intently. "Ah, I see," he said, nodding. "Do you want me to keep her in Gondor, educate her, and bring her up as one of our own?"  
  
Aragorn nodded. "Yes, my lord." He murmured, staring at the floor. He stroked the little girls cheek, kissed her softly, and handed her to Brilechor.  
  
Brilechor smiled. "And what is her name?" he said softly. Aragorn gulped. "Mimi," he whispered. "Amelié."  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Sixteen years later  
  
The afternoon sun beat down on the city of Gondor. Mimi thrust all her weight onto a weed, begging it to just spring out of the ground, along with all the other weeds she hadn't pulled out yet. She stopped, to stretch her back.  
  
"Hey, pointy ears!" she heard someone yell. Mimi groaned, and felt self- conscious. She was different from all the other slaves. For one, she had funny ears, with points on the tips of them. She was taller than all of them, and for some reason, her hair never knotted.  
  
She turned around, and saw Amarantha, another slave, waddling towards her. Mimi despised her, and she despised Mimi.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be working?" she sneered at Mimi. "You still have half a field left!"  
  
Mimi raised an eyebrow. "I think you'd better get a move on too," she said. "You've been doing this all afternoon, and you've only pulled out three weeds."  
  
Amarantha muttered something about the roots being stronger in her field, and staggered off. Mimi laughed, and stretched out her back again.  
  
"And why are you laughing?" a sharp voice asked.  
  
Mimi spun around, and her sparkling green eyes met with steel grey ones.  
  
It was Boromir.  
  
Mimi hated Boromir. He thought he was better than everyone, and liked to show off his wealth. She preferred Faramir, his younger brother, much better.  
  
Mimi cocked her head to the side. "I was just noticing the lack of weeding Amarantha's done compared to the amount I have done." She smiled. "And the difference is great." Boromir scowled. "Don't get to big for you own boots Mimi." He spat the last word. He turned to walk away. "I can't believe Brilechor liked you," he muttered. "What an old fool."  
  
Mimi felt upset when she heard Brilechor's name. He had been like a father to her, up until eight years ago, when he died, and Denethor was the new steward of Gondor. She never knew her mother or father, and she often wondered why.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
The night was dark. Mimi ran through the trees, not daring to even breathe. Dawn was near, and she had assumed she had been running for two hours, at least.  
  
Mimi stopped to catch her breath. The night was cool, and she was glad she had remembered her gloves and cloak. As the sun rose behind the mountains, Mimi took a deep breath, and continued to run. She had to make sure that no one, especially Boromir, found her.  
  
As she ran, she realised the trees were getting thicker, and the air and light thinner. Soon it was almost completely dark, and Mimi slowed to a walk, keeping her hand on her knife.  
  
She heard a twig snap.  
  
She spun around but nobody was there.  
  
"Who's there?" she called, sounding braver than she thought.  
  
Suddenly, strong hands gripped her from behind. She assumed it was a man.  
  
"And what would a young lady be doing by herself in a dangerous forest?" the voice rasped.  
  
Mimi struggled against him, but it was no use. He was a lot stronger than she was. "Let me go," she hissed.  
  
"Answer my question," he said. "And your wish will be granted."  
  
Mimi stopped, realising that there was no point in trying to fight him. He would easily win. "Now," she heard the man say quietly. "What is your name?"  
  
Mimi had always been taught not to speak to strangers, and if anyone tried to kidnap her, scream. However, it would be no use here in the forest, and if anyone from Gondor heard her, she would be taken back to the castle.  
  
She gulped. If she wanted to break free, she would have to tell him.  
  
"Mimi," she whispered. "My name is Mimi."  
  
The man let go, and she slowly spun around. The man that stood there was tanned, with brown, grimy hair to his shoulders. He was tall, with stubble and piercing light green eyes.  
  
She realised he was looking her up and down, and when his eyes landed on her small knife, he raised his eyebrows. Mimi felt a blush creeping up her neck.  
  
"And where are you heading?" he asked, his voice sounding kinder.  
  
Mimi was gaining confidence. "As far away from Gondor as possible,"  
  
He nodded, and then paused. "What did they do to you in Gondor?"  
  
"I was a slave," Mimi answered defiantly. Suddenly, Mimi felt rather curious. "And who are you?" she asked inquisitively. "I have told you my name, I expect yours in return!"  
  
The man smiled, he seemed to have lost all suspicion in the girl. "You can call me Aragorn," he spoke kindly.  
  
Mimi began to feel dizzy, and heard someone screaming. Mimi tried to figure out what they were saying, but it was difficult. But something leapt out at her. It was a woman's voice, and she was- well, it seemed she was upset.  
  
"No!" the woman screamed. "No, you can't do this!" Mimi's kind, caring nature desperately wanted to help her, but suddenly everything went black and the ground rose to meet her.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
"She was running through the woods of Gondor like a maniac."  
  
"Why? They promised that they'd look after her, why let her run through the woods at such an early hour?"  
  
"They kept her as a slave. Look at her, she has potential to be something, yet she looks like an ordinary slave child!"  
  
The voices she heard when she awoke were hushed and spoken quickly. She recognised the first voice as Aragon's, but she was still groggy from her dream.  
  
It was a fascinating dream. There was a woman- she looked like an elf from one of the picture books she had had when she was younger. She was screaming about something, to a man- he looked like an elf too. And then there was a man that looked like Aragorn- in fact she was certain it was a younger version of him!  
  
She opened her eyes, and the voices stopped. Aragorn looked down at her, deep bags underneath his eyes. And next to him- it was the elf-man from her dream! She gasped, not knowing what to do. The elf eyed her cautiously.  
  
"Where am I?" was the strangled sentence that came out of her mouth. She cursed herself for being so impolite and blunt.  
  
Aragorn didn't seem to notice though. "You are in Rivendell, the great city of elves. This is Elrond, he's a, um," he looked flustered. "An old friends of mine," he finished.  
  
Elrond sighed. "Oh, Aragorn, don't keep secrets from the child, the secret that I'm her grandfather isn't as secret as others she will discover in her life."  
  
Mimi began to protest about being called a child, but the words died on her lips. "Grandfather?" she choked. "What?" But then she remembered what Elrond had said about it being a small secret, and decided to take it as coolly as possible. "Okay," she said, shrugging.  
  
Mimi could tell Aragorn was uneasy, but she wanted to know more. "If you are my Grandfather, Elrond," she began, trying to sound mature. "Then who is my father?"  
  
The edges of Elrond's lips curved into a smile, making him seem less vicious. "Aragorn!" he said, sounding quite content.  
  
"Wha-?" she exclaimed loudly. Then she remembered her dream. "In my dream," Mimi began, trying to piece all this together in her mind, "Elrond was in it and you, Aragorn, were in it too- but there was a maiden as well. Who is that?"  
  
"That was Arwen, my daughter, and your mother. You saw-" Elrond looked embarrassed. "You saw the day you were taken away to Gondor."  
  
Mimi's lips formed the words why, but Elrond interrupted impatiently. "Hush, child, don't ask so many questions!" But then he smiled. "You're just like your mother, always curious."  
  
There was a light patter of footsteps. "Where is she?" a light, airy voice called, and both men tensed up, as if they were nervous. The door was pushed open, and a slender woman rushed through. Her chocolate brown waves of hair spilled over her crimson floor-length dress. Her eyes were sparkling, as Mimi's did when she was happy, and she smiled as if her birthday had come early.  
  
"Mimi?" she whispered excitedly.  
  
"Yes?" Mimi replied, confused. But then she understood. "Mama!" she gasped, hardly daring to breathe.  
  
The woman, who Mimi now understood was Arwen, rushed past both men, and with tears spilling down her face, she hugged Mimi, and Mimi hugged her back.  
  
"I missed you so much!" Arwen whispered. However, Mimi was so happy she couldn't speak. She had a family, and a place she could call home. She would never want anything, ever again. 


End file.
